


Into the Light

by Frangipanidownunder



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-28
Updated: 2018-01-28
Packaged: 2019-03-10 17:34:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13506447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frangipanidownunder/pseuds/Frangipanidownunder
Summary: Prompt! There was no bee... how does that go down?





	Into the Light

She’s falling and falling. It’s fluid and gentle and she knows if she spreads her wings she’d fly. There is so much light behind her eyes, behind his, dazzling but welcoming. Pulling her in, spreading its warm welcome. She can’t resist it. Fate, destiny, karma. A dozen other words, each with a subtle difference, but short of a third-party intervention, this moment has been predestined since that fateful day in the basement office.

His arms have been around her before but this urgency, this pressure, is electric. Everything is condensed into the now, his touch, her breathing. Their lips meet and his are cooler than she expected, but soft. She tries to commit the feeling to memory but she’s swept away, literally and figuratively, because her next conscious thought is of him closing the door behind them.

At the sound, she opens her eyes and sees the way he’s looking down at her. There is fear, there is fury, there is desire but there is hope. He’s on the verge of tears, his lips parted, wearing a slight frown; as though he’s trying to work out what to say. It’s almost comical, this passion of theirs. The way they’ve tamped it down for years, hidden it behind cutting comments and wry self-deprecation. Perhaps, she thinks, the more you shove something so intense aside, the bigger and more furious it grows.

She presses a finger to his lips, and his face falls to hers. She’s pressed against the door and his hand cups her chin, strokes the side of her face, falls to the buttons of her shirt and he’s undoing it, her. They’re in his living room, her legs against his couch. His hardness against her tummy.

“Mulder, something’s wrong.”

He pulls back and there’s confusion in the lines across his forehead. Guilt flashes in his eyes and he lets out a gentle sigh. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m having lacinating pain…in my chest.”

He takes her arms and bends at his knees, lays her on the couch. “Scully?”

“My motor functions are being affected.” She’s grasping his tee-shirt into her fists and his hand is caught inside her unbuttoned blouse. His stubble rasps against her neck. “My pulse is thready…I have a funny taste at the back of my mouth.”

He’s over her and under her and all around her, a sensory overload that only Mulder could create in her. “My legs are weak and my brain is sparking…mini shocks…”

Peppering kisses over her face and chest, he’s unzipping skirt and pulling it down. “What can I do to ease the pain, Scully?”

She lifts one of his hands, places it over her breast and allows herself to fall back into the dazzling light.


End file.
